Starting Out at Six Feet Under
by DatSonyat
Summary: It wasn't fun dying. It really wasn't fun waking up in a body that's supposed to be dead. Being a ninja in Naruto? Yeah, that's the last thing I want to do. So who the hell is Rin, and can someone get ahold of her to tell her she can have her body back? Oh, did I mention the giant demon turtle trapped inside of me? Is this the universe's idea of a bad joke? SI/OC, AU, slow build.
1. Under Her Skin

**Important repost notes:**

1) This is a repost of my first self-insert I originally published in 2014 and took down earlier this year due to incredible harassment over my "controversial" chapter five (details can be found on my tumblr)—which _continued_ up until its deletion. I will _not_ tolerate any manner of gross behaviour this time around.

2) Heap many thanks upon **roilian** for inspiring me to make this fic public again. I will forever be grateful for their kindness, compassion, and ultimately the respect they have for me and other content creators.

3) **I currently am not interested in receiving constructive criticism on this work at this time.** I will update this statement or announce it in a future chapter should this change. Please respect this. In the same vein, please try to keep the negativity to a minimum because it's not motivational nor is it particularly helpful. Telling me you don't like the way the plot or characters are progressing does not help me. Telling me you think a chapter was useless and that I need to remove or rewrite it does not help me. I'm the author and have had this fic planned since 2013 and I do not write filler. Trust that I know what I'm doing. If you don't like my plot or characterization, you are free to read one of the many other Rin SIs that exist.

4) While I strive to keep a humour aspect in most of my chapters when it's appropriate, this story isn't marked humour or parody. I say this only so that new readers aren't super disappointed when shit starts to get real like old readers did, because honestly? SI!Rin is in a pretty bad situation.

5) There will be updates once a week-ish until I run out of pre-existing chapters. This is currently a (slightly rewritten and edited) repost for people interested in rereading the story, and maybe to boost my drive to continue it. I don't promise set updates beyond chapter five, nor can I give ETAs for new content. I don't appreciate demands to update. Asking or expressing enthusiasm for updates is totally cool. Being a dick about it isn't.

6) "Well, crap, will there be new content, sonyat?" Yes, eventually. I am currently looking for a **beta** who would be willing to idea bounce, content check, help me out when I get stuck in (usually hilariously) stupid places, and generally allow me to become excited about the story again. We will mostly be doing fun stuff, but I would like for the person to know their way around technical things.

7) I state it on my profile, but I will state it here once again: I am pretty disabled. A lot of the time I am too ill to be writing, thus the need for a beta and understanding from readers that I can't update the way we all would like.

Now that that's all out of the way, in the words of my all-time favourite comic, "Alright then… **one more round**."

* * *

 **Originally published in January 2014**

 **AU:** Certain aspects will diverge from (most notably chapter 675) canon and the Fourth Databook. I started writing this before the information we know now was released, and I will not be changing most of what was pre-written or planned. I will please ask you not to tell me that I'm "wrong" or incorrect in what I have written. I can assure you that ninety-nine percent of the time, I know. Trust me. If you still feel the need to tell me, please PM me so that we may further discuss it.

 **Warnings:** Please note this fic will depict a spectrum of sexualities and relationship types. If you are uncomfortable with this, you may wish to discontinue reading.

 **Inspired by:** _SINHEART_ / _reSINHEART_ by Marmaroth, _Dreaming of Sunshine_ by Silver Queen, and _I've Got You Under My Skin_ by Frank Sinatra

* * *

 **Starting Out at Six Feet Under**

 **Under Her Skin**

* * *

It wasn't fun dying—it was, in fact, the worst thing that'd ever happened to me, obviously. Then again, it _really_ wasn't fun waking up in a body that was supposed to be _dead_. Forget the first part, I could have lived with that ( _ha!_ ). _Re_ birth is, without a doubt, the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

The story of my death is not an exciting one. There was nothing spectacular about it. It was pretty much my own fault, really. We're going to go back a little bit for this one, to just before I died.

It all started one evening in my best friend's basement. It was raining like crazy outside, the rain interfering with the power every now and again, causing Claire to threaten her fuse box every time it happened.

We were doing the usual: she sitting in front of her flat-screen TV fawning over anime characters, and I was sitting behind her on a plush leather couch, scribbling doodles in my notebook and trying to ignore her ridiculous cooing.

 _God, I miss that couch._

"Omigod, he is _such_ a cutie!" Claire squealed loudly, rubbing her face against the screen then kissing the still image with a wet… _smerp_ sound. Not really any other way to, uh, describe it. _Yeeeah._ I was sure her brother upstairs could hear us over the thunder.

Warren was a few years older, objectively cute, and an aspiring writer—something I definitely appreciated since it was my favourite hobby. My face flushed a little at the embarrassing thought, and I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing in exasperation to myself.

So, of course it was quite natural someone I respected got to regularly hear 'our' anime nerd-outs. Truly _lovely_ networking. Use your aggressive feelings, Jenn—let the snark flow through you.

"Oh! My adorable, powerful, full-to-the-brim-with-liquid-sex, sexy, sexy love!" Claire squealed again when she unpaused it, and the animated object of her affection began to speak in Japanese.

"Obito, did you launch the plan without even sealing the Eight and Nine-Tails?"

I didn't need to see to recognize that commanding voice. Damnit, I should have known the second she started with the liquid sex part. Oh yippee, we're doing the Madara thing again, slash sarcasm. I heaved another sigh and looked up to read the subtitles, trying to understand what she was carrying on about.

"Can you drop the Uchiha wank for one night?" I asked tiredly, pushing aside my heavy, dyed bangs. I really hated when she started with this. I was probably being too mean, though. I decided to lighten up on her, if only for the fact we hadn't seen each other in about a week and a half.

"My, my, aren't you an ornery bitch," Claire commented wryly, confirming my suspicions.

"My bad," I told her with a pronounced wink, drawing a heart with 'Jenn plus Claire' written in the middle. I flashed the sign at her.

"What have you been up to all this time?" Madara asked one of the other characters in the background.

She winked back at me and said, "Sorry darlin', my heart belongs to this stud." She pointed at him. "I haven't been up to anything bad, I swear," Claire answered him, nuzzling his 2D face. I heard static as she rubbed her skin against the TV. Such a classy lady.

"You were supposed to bring me back with the Rinne Tensei."

My eyes narrowed in disinterest. His voice was starting to get annoying; especially considering Claire kept turning up the volume _every-single-time_ he spoke. "Why don't you just watch it in English?"

Claire stopped molesting the television long enough to turn around and give me a 'WTF' look, liberally peppered with 'you are so stupid.'

"Because it literally came out last Thursday? Also, I don't watch dubs, you know this. Duh," she sassed me a little in return, her lower lip jutting out in what I guessed she thought was a cute pout, but it looked more like she was constipated.

I couldn't contain my grin and chuckled at her. "Sorry, you're right. I can't follow all the different series you watch. Is this the episode where Naruto beats the ever-loving shit out of Sonic the Hedgehog?"

I wasn't a big anime fan, what with most of my information coming from Claire. Out of all the anime she subjected me to, I enjoyed Naruto the most, but I certainly didn't follow it the way she did. Hell, most of the time I didn't even bother paying attention to it.

 _Huge mistake number one!_

And if you haven't guessed by now, I'm no Madara fan— _nor will I ever be_. I never understood why Claire worshipped him so much. He's far too OP for my tastes (OP meaning overpowered for those of you that aren't staunch MMO players). I was hoping Naruto, in all his fiery, glowing glory, was going to whip dat ass one of these days, simply to see Claire's hilarious reaction. I suppose if I had to pick a favourite character from memory, it would be the shark-guy Kisame from the Akatsuki that Claire also so loved—not nearly as much as she loved Madara, though.

In response to my question, Claire gasped in horror, hands flying back to the TV screen. She stroked it like a madwoman, never breaking eye-contact with me and whispering heatedly, "Don't listen to her, Madara-sama, I'll always love you, I promise. I'm here for you."

"I can't depend on any of you," said Madara on screen with a displeased expression.

Claire's face was priceless.

I cracked up laughing at the odd coincidence and her utterly forlorn cry of, "Why have you forsaken me, God of the Uchiha!"

 _I guess they're not bad looking for cartoons,_ I considered, somewhat weirded-out by my own thoughts. _Good lord, I can't believe I'm thinking about this! What has that woman done to me?_

The rest of the episode continued on with the back-story of the other villain, which Claire lamented since she wanted to perv some more on the young-looking Madara, not his senior-citizen self. Like usual, I ended up not listening too closely, more entranced with my small sketches and notes on the next chapter of the novel I was writing. Yay, post-apocalyptic mutated, super-evolved human survival story? Cliché was what it was, but damn if I wasn't an unrepentant and avid cliché flipper and trope subverter.

 _Too bad I didn't realize I was about to die and live a few all at once._

The night passed as it did in the same manner after anime time: a raging montage of screeching unholy hell at first person shooters and bitching about our first-world problems.

In the final hours before I left, Claire let me do her skin, hair, and make-up for practice. I was grateful she let me work on her; it helped in my cosmetology courses a fair amount. Claire being, well, Claire made it out like it was a big deal because she was no girly-girl, but I was ninety-nine percent sure her theatrical self enjoyed it.

Ah, the casual life of aimless twenty-somethings. Riveting stuff, ain't it?

At eleven o'clock, it was time for me to head home. The real storm was supposed to hit by one and I didn't want to get caught in it. I had to get up at eight the next day anyway, so that was okay with me.

I had my last conversation with my best friend on her front porch, watching the rain pound down in unrelenting sheets beyond the safety of the awning. Ancient, massive maple trees swayed and groaned in the wind, threatening the quaint houses they loomed over. The lightning and thunder had really picked up, giving rise to an irrational fear within me, poking at a mostly dormant phobia. I forced it down. I was in my mid-twenties now; being afraid of that was so pathetic, like I was still some cowering kid who didn't know better.

Screw that, I wanted to go home.

"See you tomorrow, Clefairy," I said to her with a two-fingered salute, something I did fairly often. If I had have known this would be the last time I would see Claire…

"Are you sure you want to leave in this weather?" she asked me with a concerned frown. I should've taken that as a sign to stay. Claire never worried, I was the worrier, but today I'd felt oddly calm.

 _They say that's the way you feel before you die._

"I'll be fine," I replied, flipping my hood up.

 _Famous last words._

So I set out on my journey home, a whopping fifteen minutes.

Sorry, there's my sarcasm again.

 _No problem,_ I thought even as the force of the wind threatened to knock me down. _It's only fifteen minutes. I'll be good._ Rain whipped around me as I held my coat shut tightly, shivering with cold. My clothes were soaked through almost instantly. _Okay, so maybe this wasn't my best idea._

I started to run, wanting to get out of the insane storm as soon as possible. _The storm will really pick up at 1AM my ass, weather-dick!_

And even as I ran, I was good until about halfway home. It was then that everything went to shit. In the most _cliché_ —yes, it _had_ to be a _freaking cliché_ —of all events, lightning struck a utility pole.

I passed under it right as it struck. The transformer at the top exploded in a fantastic shower of volcanic sparks. I screamed at the noise and light, and started to run faster. I don't think I even realized what had happened, but some instinctive part of me knew bright lights and loud noises were bad this late at night… in a storm.

Yeah, these weren't my best moments. I can see why I died.

The wind, as powerful as it was, made full-blown running nearly impossible. Over the howling of the storm and the transformer blowing, I heard a sickening snap.

I did the stupidest thing I could have done at the time and looked up. Several cables came loose from the pole, electricity crackling dangerously from the severed ends.

This shouldn't have been a problem with the wind working against me, therefore swinging the cables behind me, right?

Wrong. Fate, or God—whatever you believe in—really wanted me to die.

The wind _changed_ directions on me. When I realized what was going on, I tried to haul ass out of there.

I never stood a chance.

I could have gone left, right, forward, it didn't matter. Too many cables had come loose, and I was nowhere near fast enough to outrun them.

In those last few arguably precious moments, time slowed down to an agonizing trickle. I threw my head around to see behind me, and watched with wide, horrified eyes as one of the thick wires swung towards me. I tried to dodge to no avail.

It hit me in the chest, pain like nothing I had ever known, incredibly intense and piercing—muscles burning, blood boiling, skin _melting_ , every _horrible_ thing out of Hellraiser—like millions of needles skewering my body with all the skin pulled back. It felt like it went on forever, this infinite pain, when very likely it was no more than five seconds.

At blessed last, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. I let the creeping darkness take me.

* * *

 **三**

* * *

 _Did I die?_

 **Ba-bump**

 _That noise…_

 **Ba-bump**

 _Am I dead?_

 **Ba-bump**

 _I should be dead._ My fingers twitched.

 **Ba-bump**

 _Then why can I feel?_ Everything _hurt_.

 **BA-BUMP**

I felt my heart clench painfully in my chest, anchoring me to reality. The disgusting metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, dripping down my throat. My skin was on fire, the burning so intense it almost felt cold. All of my nerve endings screamed out in agony. The smell around me was rotten and overpowering.

"Ugh," I coughed wetly, splattering blood over my face as I drew in great gasping breaths of air, feeling as if I'd been on the verge of drowning. Oh my god, that _smell_ … I grappled with my half-responsive hands, trying to make out some semblance of where I was. I couldn't feel the rain anymore. Had I lain unconscious for so long? My hands told me I was laying inside a few inches of some kind of viscous liquid. It was sticky. What the...?

Suddenly, the stench became too much for me and I shot upwards, much to my body's protest, to vomit violently. Each heave made it feel like my heart was going to burst from my chest, Xenomorph style. It hurt so much, so deeply in my chest.

"God," I croaked between heaves. My voice was hoarse and entirely unrecognizable. At least the blood taste would come out. "What have I done—" Blood and bile interrupted my plea for help to someone I didn't believe existed. "—have I done to… deserve… this." My stomach gave a final brutal squeeze. The strength of it nearly knocked me back out.

" _Fuck_ ," I swore breathlessly, leaning on my forearms in the thick, putrid filth to spit the remaining bile out of my mouth. I felt the ends of my hair—the few strands that were still clean—dip into it, coming away heavy and clumped together.

Wait—what? My hair isn't that long, can't be that long. I'm practically bald, I only have _bangs_.

Don't I?

I opened my eyes, finding it hard to focus. Everything was red. _I'm having some kind of stroke, aren't I?_ I thought, dismayed. I got to live through being viciously electrocuted, and now _this_? I must have been some kind of terrible serial killer in a past life.

The world began to slowly clear, and I realized with a start, that yes, everything was indeed red. It was all red because I was kneeling ankle-deep in a gigantic pool of _blood_. I tried to scream, but my throat was too injured. It came out as more of a high-pitched hiss.

"Oh my god, oh my god," I panicked, each word producing the feeling of razors slashing the inside of my throat.

There were twisted, malformed trees everywhere, all decorated with decimated bodies, oozing blood. That explained what seemed like the Olympic-sized swimming pool of blood around me, but _why_? I almost started laughing, the scene so insane and nauseating that it didn't seem real. My stomach churned. I fought back the urge to start throwing up again.

Jesus Christ, what was going on here? Was this hell? Had I died and gone to hell?

 _You made Kakashi kill you._ Something niggled at the back of my mind. What was that? I shook my head dazedly, trying to clear it. I couldn't keep looking at all this death, it was going to drive me crazy.

Shock started to slide in, and I robotically pulled myself up and sat back, legs tucked under me, arms lying limply at my sides, hands beneath the cool, congealing blood. I mushed earth in my palms as I made fists under the blood-lake, staring blankly out into the distance. It felt real, _looked real_.

My fingernails bit into the skin of my palms with force. My whole body shook for a second with a hard twitch and I sucked in an aching breath, like waking myself from a paralyzing nightmare. I could feel pain. I could feel sick. This wasn't hell, the afterlife, whatever. I refused to believe it.

This had to be _real_.

My hair clung to my chin and neck, wet and stinking. In some inane attempt to forget the inexplicable experience I was going through, my blood-soaked hands went to it. I grabbed great chunks of it, running my hands through its length.

I pulled hard.

"Ow!" I hissed, not at all expecting it to have hurt because there was no way this hair wasn't a wig! How did I grow fourteen inches of hair in the span of two to twelve hours? It wasn't just that; my body felt lighter, like I'd lost a ton of weight, like things were missing— _OhmygodIhavenotits!_

I gaped at my chest, hands hovering in front of where I'd once had moderately-sized boobs, nothing large, but still decent! Was this some kind of reverse puberty?

I soon noticed that I had a bigger problem than my lack of breasts. A huge hole was ripped into my shirt right where my heart sat. The goods were pretty much on display, except they weren't at all the goods I remembered. A terrible red-pink scar, gnarled and bumpy, marred nearly all of the skin of my left breast, and I had a gut feeling the scarring didn't end there. I touched it gingerly, wincing when the slightest contact made it burn, sending a shooting pain directly into my heart. For a second, I couldn't breathe, only exhale and give a shaky cough until the palpitations passed.

When did that happen to me? The injury looked nothing like an electrical burn or a 'melt-you-down-to-your-bones-because-you-ran-into-a-lightning-strike' burn.

 _Use the Mystical Palm jutsu to heal yourself. You have enough chakra now._

"What's happening to me?" I whispered to myself, the bizarre itch in my brain feeling returning for a brief moment. "Where am I?" This was certainly not my neighbourhood, or Claire's. It wasn't even civilization. There were no landmarks, save for what I was currently in, a break in the middle of a forest. The moon was high in the sky, so it was still night, but had it been full? That did _not_ seem right. I couldn't remember. The one damned time I'm not paying attention to the moon…

 _You're in the Land of Fire._ Again, that strange feeling, like something wriggling deep inside my head, attempting to get out. I ignored it in favour of more pressing matters.

I ripped the top half of my shirt off, using the extra fabric in the sleeves to fashion a make-shift tube top to cover the girls and my new awful scar. _These aren't my clothes,_ I realized with dawning horror. Cold chills ran through me. _I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here now!_ Some deep primal part of me was telling me to run (yeah, because the blood pool and demented forestry weren't enough to inspire that in the first place, go figure).

 _Chakra signatures, people are coming._ Gritting my teeth, I clutched my head. This was already getting old. What was it? Some repressed memory trying to surface? It didn't matter, I needed to leave.

I took hold of the blood slick tree next to me, using it to rise. It took all of my strength to pull myself to my feet. I swear I was sweating by the time I managed to stand on badly shaking legs—legs that were too thin to be mine. _Get out of this screwed-up mess first, then freak out._ Okay, so there were still some working brain-cells left in my head, good to know.

I started to walk slowly, small steps to make sure I wouldn't go careening headfirst back into the decidedly Doom-y landscape. Ten steps in I realized I could go faster, so I did. My walk turned into a jog, then into a sprint, and soon I was flying at a speed I'd never known to possess through the forest in a direction that made me feel safe. My newfound ability made me laugh out loud, part in delight, part in disbelief. It was amazing. Where had this come from? The weakness didn't leave my body, but it lifted a little, an invigorating energy coursing through my muscles, filling them with some unknown power.

I couldn't exactly explain the 'direction that made me feel safe' part, how I knew that this was a safe way to go, but the farther northwest I went, the better I felt.

 _It's because you're going to Konoha._

"Shut up," I snarled, and was immediately not sure why I'd done it. My confident pace faltered and I tripped over a root, sending myself hurtling forward. Apparently I hadn't understood just how fast I was going. I sailed through the air and tried to curl in on myself; if I hit the ground chest first like I was expecting to… Well, I didn't want to think about what could happen.

Instead, I landed on my side, the force of the impact enough to drive the air from my lungs, and skidded for a few feet before rolling a couple times to a stop. I wheezed and clutched at my burning wound, the jolts of stabbing pain striking spasms through my chest and down my legs. They kicked out like I was having some kind of reflex test done. To any bystander it probably looked like I was having a seizure. _Oh man._

 _I definitely shouldn't have tried to run,_ I told myself with a grimace. I couldn't have been doing it for more than fifteen—maybe twenty if I'm being generous—minutes; still _way_ more than I ever used to be able to do. Was I far enough from danger, from that shitty hellscape?

The sound of running water came to my ears. _Nah, that ain't no sink girl, you're in the middle of a forest!_ With a shaky hand, I wiped the rather gross amount of blood tinted sweat from my forehead and rolled over to face what had to be a river. I sighed in relief when I was right. Maybe I could wash off some of the crusty blood now. God, I probably looked like a walking corpse. _How unfortunate,_ I thought dryly, _I never wanted to give in to the zombie craze._

Useless yet distracting rambling aside…

"Ow—OW!" I exclaimed as I tried to get up, stumbling back to the ground. I cupped my ankle, outwardly seething. Oh, _come on_ , do I not deserve a break at this point? This really isn't funny. Now I have to deal with a twisted ankle on top of all this other bullshit?

 _No. Use the Mystical Palm jutsu._

"Ah, whatever," I scoffed with an eye-roll.

Before I knew what I was doing, my hands flew through making some kind of hand signs and were glowing green above my ankle. It began to feel better as I concentrated and honed in with my chakra, pleased with how good my control was. I'd always been naturally skilled with it, but all my hard work refining it was really paying off. After all, check out what a great iryō-nin I've become, at my age too! I smiled proudly to myself as I worked. This was nothing; I'd done it so many times I'd lost count. I could heal far more complicated wounds than this.

I checked my ankle over when I was finished, feeling over the bones for fractures and testing the ligaments with a simple diagnostic jutsu. _Nicely done indeed._ Fully healed!

...

 _Uh… fully healed? How did I just heal myself?_

Er, wait, go back! Something's not right. I made the hand signs again from some memory I didn't know I had and concentrated. That powerful feeling returned, a little similar to what I did to my muscles in the forest, but not really? My hands pulsed with soft green light once more.

The goofy smile vanished from my face as my brain caught up to my racing thoughts. I frowned, eyes bulging out of their sockets as I looked at it, well and truly looked at it.

I'm sorry, full stop: GLOWING GREEN?! CHAKRA?! JUTSU?!

"Oh my god!" I yelled for the umpteenth time—instantly regretting it for the way it shredded my throat. I really do call upon an entity I don't believe in quite a bit. Another weird habit.

 _Be quiet, the enemy could hear you._

"Dude, screw your 'be quiet' jazz! I'm fucking glowing!" I ranted hysterically, watching as the glow sputtered out and died due to my lack of focus. "Chakra?! Like chakra in Naruto? Like the chakra the blondie with big tits uses? Tsunana? Tsu-something? Whatever! Holy shit, holy shit!"

I scooted to the edge of the river and looked in, unable to ignore the signs any longer.

The face gawking back at me was not mine, even though she mimicked everything I did.

She looked at least nine or ten years younger than me, maybe fourteen years old if my guess was correct—

 _Yes, you're thirteen turning fourteen._

—with brown hair stopping a few inches under her chin, brown eyes, and one thick purple marking on each cheek. I stretched my cheeks, watching them move with the skin. So they weren't paint, and didn't really look like tattoos, and believe me, I would know, I had my fair share before this. I recalled Naruto characters often had these from birth.

 _Chakra markings._

I—wow, I'm really considering that I'm now a Naruto character. _Great_. Grudgingly, it… _did_ make a modicum of sense, though; I could do crazy feats with my body—I didn't really think it was my body—that I would never have dreamed possible before, I had chakra, I had jutsu, and knew how to use both like it was second nature. Most importantly, I had a headband.

 _Hitai-ate._

The headband I wore told me what I needed to know, that I was from Konoha, the village the show focused most on. It also told me I was a ninja that murdered people.

 _Not happening,_ I thought, and ripped the headband off, throwing it into the river. If I had to play this weird game, this weird _life_ , hopefully, _at least_ until I woke up—or some higher power took pity on me and ended this Sims game—I wasn't going to do it as a ninja.

 _You're a proud kunoichi from Konoha. You wanted to die for Konoha._

I would never go to Konoha or any other ninja village. I was going to ride this out as a normal person, even if I had to hide my new, cool powers.

The purple marks on my face needed to be covered up. Despite the fact that they made me—er, whoever I was supposed to be—look way less boring, they were pretty distinctive, and someone looking for me would instantly know who I was. Unless tons of people had these giant things on their faces—which I highly doubted since I didn't remember seeing anyone with them on the show.

Actually, no, there was that one girl from the last episode I'd watched with Claire. I remembered looking up because of the obscenely bright light and seeing her get killed with a lightning-filled hand… through her… chest…

I looked down at my covered injury, trembling, with eyes so big they could've popped out of my head. My mind boggling at the implication, I thought of the electricity-filled cable hitting my chest.

I came to one very impossible conclusion.

"Son of a _bitch_!"

* * *

 **三**

* * *

"Where is she?" A mismatched pair of intense, bloodshot eyes bore into the stunned man's own. The Sharingan burned brightly in its socket, unmoving and wide.

"Hatake-taichō…" Kakashi's subordinate breathed out, frozen, unable to pry off the young jōnin's white-knuckled grip. His furious screams of, " _Who killed them_?!" lingered hauntingly in the night. Kakashi appeared a wraith, haggard, wounded, and dead-eyed; a shadow of himself, delirious from severe chakra exhaustion. He would _die_ if he wasn't treated quickly.

Kakashi's badly trembling fists gripped the collar of the shinobi's flak jacket tighter, pulling him closer. "Where is she?" he repeated, a hint of something terrible—despair? Mania? Desperation?—bleeding into his raspy voice.

"Taichō, Nohara-san is—she's—" the man fumbled with his words, knowing there was nothing he could say to placate his captain, "she's… _gone_."

And that was the truth. Nohara Rin was simply _gone_ , missing in action. There was no body to be found.

Kakashi blinked then, like he was coming out of some horrible dream and into a more horrible reality. Slowly, he swivelled around, eyeing the massacre around him. _Gone, gone, gone_ echoed hollowly in his head. Rin was gone, _dead_ by _his_ hand, because he hadn't been able to protect her.

He had broken his promise.

* * *

 **三**

* * *

Nohara Rin would be declared dead in absentia like her teammate before her, but unlike Obito, who had been buried somewhere in Kusa, those who had been close to her would be left forever wondering:

Where on earth had Rin's body gone?

* * *

 **三**

* * *

"You showed him mercy because he was a comrade?" Madara asked, unimpressed.

"No… It was fine either way. Whether he lives or dies—"

"She got up and walked away," the original White Zetsu broke in in confusion, interrupting him.

"Insolent creature, now is not the time," Madara said, his eye piercing and terror-inducing, authority ageless and unmatched.

"Rin got up and walked away," Zetsu repeated, too stunned to be cowed by his creator, looking as confused as he sounded. His awed gaze shifted to Obito.

The glare Obito pinned on him was absolutely murderous. His hands clenched into shaking fists. "What part of that do you think is funny?" he demanded.

"Wow, that's messed up," Guruguru exclaimed from around Obito. "She seriously got up and walked away like some kind of zombie!"

"I felt her pulse, she was dead," Obito told them with a snarl, single Sharingan morphing back into its Mangekyō state.

Madara saw that this was going to a bad place. The boy was about to agree to his plans and the Zetsu were on track to ruin it. "Enough, both of you. Begone."

Almost unwillingly, Guruguru uncurled himself from Obito, steadying him as he reformed to make sure he didn't fall over. After all, the right half of his body was unstable for the time being. Obito didn't stop glaring at him even as the clone offered its help.

Zetsu and Guruguru slunk out of the main cavern, the air heavy with killing intent.

"Your clones saw it, right? I don't have faulty wiring?" Guruguru asked when they were out of earshot.

"Yes," Zetsu confirmed. "She got up, went a little crazy, and ran away," he said in disbelief.

Guruguru thought about it for a second with a hum.

"Do humans with large holes in their chests usually walk away from that like nothing happened?"

* * *

 **2014 A/N:** And now you know the timeline! She was "dead" long enough for Obito to have left her there, but not enough for the Konoha forces to find her. I always wondered what happened to Rin's body. Did Obito take it with him and bury her? Did he leave it and then Konoha reinforcements took it back with them? I don't think it's ever said anywhere.

A big thank you goes out to Peyton LeVay for helping me sort out my timeline!

I'm aware I do some switching between tenses. Some of it is purposeful. Please inform me if it is awkward or terribly distracting.

Reviews seriously make my day.

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 **2016 A/N:** The kanji I use between linebreaks means 'three.' I hope somebody out there enjoyed the repost.

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 **Fic recommendations:** _LET ME IN_ by Enbi, _mirror, mirror (further, nearer)_ by starlineshine, and _A World Only We Know_ by Timely


	2. Prisons without Walls

**Originally posted in February 2014**

 **Beta:** Enbi. I am so grateful for her help because this chapter was a mess despite me editing it countless times over the years.

* * *

 **Starting Out at Six Feet Under**

 **Prisons without Walls**

* * *

If I'm correct about what's happening to me at the moment, I'm essentially an aspiring make-up artist and hobbyist writer trying to make it in the Narutoverse that I stupidly did not pay as much attention to as I should have.

This is going to end well.

* * *

"Time's almost up," Guruguru said, observing the still forms of Madara and Obito from a distance. They stood with their eyes locked together in a trance-like state, deep inside the elder's genjutsu.

"Yeah," Zetsu replied, conflicted, "Madara chose him, though. If Obito thinks Rin is alive, he might abandon Madara's plan. We can't have that."

"But Obito is our friend, and he loves her," Guruguru sighed.

"He doesn't believe us."

"I don't think I would believe us. What kind of human recovers from that sort of thing?"

"Apparently her," Zetsu shrugged, stroking his chin in contemplation. He thought back to what little jargon his clones had heard from the Kiri-nin; Kirigakure testing something, needing to experiment with human bodies. Could whatever Kiri had done to that girl potentially saved her?

"We should find out what they did. It's certainly interesting, a human that can recover so flawlessly from a fatal wound," Guruguru said. Speech between the clones was unnecessary due to their telepathy, but they enjoyed it all the same, and in time would gain appropriate nicknames from it.

Zetsu hummed in agreement. His thoughts were elsewhere, however. What if Rin were to agree to the plan? Hadn't she seen enough death, going so far as to offer her own life? Wouldn't she want to see a perfect world too? Why couldn't Obito and Rin see that together?

Guruguru tilted his head curiously at the thought. Slowly, a growing amusement filtered through their link. A person like that was useful. Their plan had merit and it would be entertaining. Humans really were _so_ _entertaining_.

"Has she gone past the perimeter yet?"

"Nearly," Zetsu reached out through his network of clones. "Eh, but chakra like hers isn't hard to track down again. Not that that would ever be a problem for us."

"True, but I'll go anyway."

"If Madara questions your absence, we'll be caught…"

"Not at all." Guruguru began to sink into the ground. "Obito's still mad at us. Madara won't ask me to return yet, and by then I'll already be back."

Would they keep this a secret from Madara?

 _Yes._

After all, it wasn't like it was something bad, right? And if it became detrimental to Tsuki no Me, well, that could be dealt with easily too.

The Zetsu would keep it their secret.

 _For now._

* * *

 **三**

* * *

"Son of a bitch," I breathlessly repeated again, staring intently at my/her—

 _Yours. Nohara Rin's. You. Rin._

—reflection, at the face that simultaneously was and wasn't mine. Tentatively, I reached out to touch it, needing some sort of confirmation that this was really me. Her hand followed the path mine made, shaking as it came ever closer. She wore my expression of numb shock that was quickly diffusing into a glassy-eyed fear.

Where was the grown woman with a sickly face, grey eyes, and a shaved head fronted by a bright purple plumage of bangs? I'd always needed glasses, and yet here I could see clearer than I'd ever been able to.

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when my hand broke the water's surface, distorting the mirror image. I flinched at the sensation of the cold water. Though the ripples made it hazy, the reflection of a dark-haired, dark-eyed girl with purple rectangles on her cheeks remained.

I made a noise of surprise. To describe the moment as sobering would have been an understatement.

All Mulan jokes aside, why the hell is my reflection someone I don't know?

While all cues pointed to this person really being me and this body mine, good ol' stubborn me just wasn't going to accept it so easily, so I started thinking (strictly) hypothetically. Say I really am a Naruto character now—which particular one I still have no idea—what do I do from here? Where do I go? I just chucked my headband—

 _Hitai-ate._

—into the river and declared that I wasn't going to play ninja, which I most certainly intended to stick by. Espionage, seduction, and murder? No thanks, give me back my boring life, _please_.

Well—I don't want to be dead either, so axe that last part unless I'm actually in a coma headed towards a remarkable recovery...

(Yeah. I know it's too much to ask for.)

Absentmindedly, I cupped water in my hands and began splashing it over my face and neck, scraping at the dry blood there. The sensation did nothing to alleviate my feelings that there might be an off-chance that this could be a dream.

What, exactly, did I know about Naruto, beyond the basics of the show and the main characters? All of the main characters are probably in Konoha— _still not going_ —so that's out. After them, all I know are the Akatsuki and Madara.

... _Oh god._

Please excuse me while I go laugh my ass off over how well _that_ would turn out. Have the Akatsuki even formed yet? Is the real Uchiha Madara still an old man, or is he dead, or Edo Tensei'd? I need some help here. I doubted any of these people would help me, besides, they were still all shinobi, still all people I didn't want to associate with if I was going to shoot for normal.

But what civilians did I know? The Ichiraku Ramen father and daughter duo?

Goddamnit, did Konoha really have to be central to _everything?_

 _Kakashi would help you. Konohagakure_ _ **would**_ _help you._

"Hell no!" I declared, then shoved my head under the water. Although I didn't have any shampoo, I was sure I could dislodge the disgusting, caked-on blood with enough force. I clawed and tugged at it like my life depended on it.

I had to think harder. Surely there was an answer among the plethora of random trivia I knew about Naruto. Any information fresh in my mind would be from the newer episodes I'd starting watching weekly with Claire, and those all had to do with the Fourth Shinobi World War.

Shit, where am I in the timeline? Is this Pre-Time Skip or Shippuden? If this is actually happening to me, I am so, _so_ screwed right now! How am I supposed to live through this when I don't know WHEN and WHERE I am?

 _The Third Shinobi World War has only just ended._

I raised my dishevelled head from the river with a sharp intake of air.

Elegance. I radiate it.

In all the fanfiction I'd proofread for Claire, her characters usually headed straight for Konoha, or wherever their favourite boytoy happened to be stationed, to get answers. I didn't want to go to Konoha for reasons previously stated and had no favourite character, male or female, to follow around.

Hmm, I guess I'm a bit of a liar since I did disclose Kisame as one, but wasn't the village he came from hailed as the Bloody Mist? Um, no thank you (but thank you Claire for drilling some facts about the series into me)! And I can only imagine he'd be scary as all hell in person. That, and he's potentially in Akatsuki at the moment.

Our meeting would probably go as such: Hey, yeah, I'm from another world where you're a cartoon and I _kinda_ know the future, but not really because I'm the noob that didn't pay attention. Wanna be BFFs? I can be the token helpless female that follows you around, and maybe we'll fall in love and live happily ever after? Insert corny sword and penis joke here. Oh, you're not cool with that? Okay, I'll just leave—whoops I'm dead.

Sounds fun, right? Yeah, no, not for me either. I don't think I'd have the metaphorical balls to go through with the dick joke which takes most of the hilarity out of that, anyway. If I'm going to do everything in my power to avoid being noticed, then the following someone around idea isn't a good one at all.

But really, how insane am I for considering that I'm now a Naruto character? Who am I supposed to be anyway? _With my luck, I bet I'm some sort of minor character,_ I thought wryly. Ha, I'd be okay with being a minor character, though. Is she significant to the plot? Am _I_ the important one now?

(Sweet Jesus, I really hope not. I'm not good at being important.)

I don't think she was, not with what little screen-time she got. _She did appear in that last episode, though. Ugh, why wasn't I paying attention again? Who is she?_

 _You are Nohara Rin, chūnin of Konohagakure._

Shoving the wholly sarcastic and totally useless thoughts aside, I put my attention back where it belonged: on anything that would help me get out of this mess. And speaking of messes, I certainly looked like one.

My skin itched like hell. I needed to wash off the gunk that covered me.

 _So, you will listen? The scent of blood is strong, distinct. The way you are now, no one would have any issues tracking you._

With a shiver, I realized not because it was uncomfortable or gross; I needed to wash it off before someone picked up the scent and tracked me down. This was another thing I somehow just _knew_ , and I was going to follow my gut on it for now; after all, it hadn't steered me wrong quite yet. So far, it was unpleasant being a ninja.

(Note to self: get out of being a ninja.)

 _Unlikely. This is a necessary part of achieving your goal. Will you give up after you've come this far?_

While the air was warm and humid—thankfully; I had no illusions that if it had been any cooler I'd be dead—the river wasn't warm by any means. It was in no way a good idea to just go jumping straight in in case the current was stronger deeper in. I would need to be a little creative here. The front of my skirt was the only part of my outfit that wasn't (mostly) drenched in now dry blood and viscera, so I tore it off entirely and dunked it in the river.

After several minutes of furiously scrubbing my skin raw, I realized this was about as good as it was going to get. While I was no longer completely crusty with dry blood, I looked far from normal. I still appeared like I'd just walked out of a war zone—which, in all likelihood I did. A quick look down at my reflection told me my hair remained filthy, though. Even through the vigorous wash, some parts were still matted with blood.

 _I'm in Naruto. I'm a Naruto character. I'm in Naruto._ These words ran through my mind almost non-stop as I continued to try to figure out what to do next. No matter how I swung it, it made absolutely _no sense_. How does one just become someone else entirely, let alone an anime character? How was I so sure this wasn't some kind of coma-dream? I was all but struck by lightning. Maybe I was really alive in 'my world,' and all of this was a product of my increasingly insane imagination.

Since I'd already determined I wasn't dead, therefore this wasn't any form of the afterlife, I needed to figure out what was going on. I mean, I didn't die, right?—though I was sure hundreds of millions of volts of electricity surging through my heart should have killed me. I feel like I would definitely know if I did.

 _Yes, and no._

Sure, I've just been through an entirely traumatic experience, but to consider myself in another world, in another body? _Come_ _ **on**_ _._ If I really died, this wasn't how reincarnation worked. You don't suddenly get dropped off into an already living body, interrupting somebody's life experience.

 _But you haven't, not really._

"No, I'm pretty sure I have," I said, annoyed, while closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. It felt like something inside wanted out badly, clawing and tearing inside of my head.

My voice remained rough and choked, any words I spoke bringing pain. Why was I talking anyway? Was it perhaps an attempt to keep myself from going completely off the deep end? That I kept talking to myself spoke volumes about how well the tactic was working.

Grimacing, I stroked my throat and wondered if I could heal it the same way I had my ankle. I seemed to be trained heavily as a—an iryō-nin, after all. It was hard to believe I was seriously thinking that's what I was. Then again, I'd been convincing myself out of meeting canon characters...

 _You never want to see your family or friends ever again?_

Ignoring what I could only describe as lumpy noises in my brain, my eyes caught my reflection as I went to make the seals for my healing technique. I paused. It was hard not to gape at it as I had been doing for god knows how long now. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it every time they glanced across the shimmering water.

One hand hovered over my chest, where according to my memory I should have had a fist-sized, round hole. How was _she_ alive? How was _I_ alive?

 **I would very much like an answer to that too. N-not that I'm complaining, though!**

My whole body froze at the words right next to my ear, and then whipped around wildly, on my feet in a nanosecond. Without thinking, my hand darted to the holster strapped to my thigh, whipping out a knife—

 _Kunai._

—a-a _kunai_ , that I twirled between my fingers to position correctly. I wonder what disturbed me more, that I could wield a weapon with such ease, or the voice echoing around me.

They had said it right _in_ _my ear_ , and now they were gone? Could anyone move that fast? It simply wasn't _possible_.

 _How many times have you seen Minato-sensei do it? This is nothing new._

"Who's there?" I called, instantly regretting how utterly stupid it was of me to do so. Who asks the bad guys if they're out there waiting to pounce? _Me._ Sigh.

I stood there with my weapon ready, in a fighting stance, ready to lash out at anyone that came my way. My breathing remained harsh and ragged, chest heaving and throat burning.

 _Too loud. Calm down._

The hand clenching my knife—kunai shook. Yeah, I sure looked real threatening. The light of the moon sitting so brightly in the sky made the point of the kunai glint dangerously. Frankly, it looked more imposing than I did.

 _Holding it too tightly; you'll overthrow your balance when you thrust, and when you throw it will have minimal accuracy._

But nothing happened. No badass enemy shinobi burst out of the trees at me, or demons, or that little girl out of The Ring, or any other wacky things I could think of. The night remained as silent as it had been, the only sound the rushing of water beside me. That feeling deep in my core that had made me instinctively want to run before wasn't there. Inexplicably, there was no one around that could have said that to me, least of all right in my ear.

 _There are no chakra signatures. They're gone. Are you listening? Listen, listen, LISTEN! Why won't you listen?_

What was that? What in the ever-loving hell was that? Somebody had said, crystal clear and stern and angry, that they wanted to know how I was alive as well. And that they weren't complaining about it, that part said like a child not wanting to be reprimanded. It actually confused me enough to break through my panic. I mean, what? I wasn't complaining either. Not yet, at least.

I felt like I might begin, now that there was a bodiless voice surrounding me.

So, I'm apparently a Naruto character, schizophrenic and/or being haunted? Maybe both? Maybe _all?_ Is it okay to prefer death to this weird reincarnation now?

I'm not ashamed to admit I sat down and tried not to cry. I had no clue about what was happening to me. It was funny at first, the thought that I might have been in an anime, but it was becoming too real. I wanted to go home. _I wanted to go home._

It was all _wrong_.

"Rin, get it together, what are you even thinking?" I slapped my cheeks twice, dragging my fingers down them. The shape of my eyes warped comically as I tugged on the skin there.

 **Getting caught in this, you're pathetic,** the same voice I'd heard moments before told me, sounding loathing and self-loathing, furious and afraid all at once. It was distinctly male. His tone had changed completely. **Let me** _ **out**_ **.**

It wasn't in my ear. It was in my _head_.

 **Yours is the lesser will. You _will_ free me.**

… _No._

The kunai slipped from my hand as I stared vacantly into the brilliant night sky.

 _No, cut that shit out, Rin. You're losing it!_

I raked my nails down my face, leaving stinging trails in their wake.

 **Let me out, pitiful vessel.** The amount of rage in those five small words was mind-boggling. His words drummed across my consciousness, growing louder and louder as they reverberated against the inside of my skull, a cacophony of malevolence and hatred.

 **Does a little girl presume to cage** _ **ME**_ **?** The more the voice spoke, the more idiotic it became to me. Giggles started to burble up from my ruined throat, high-pitched and bordering on manic.

My life as I knew it was over. This was insanity at its finest: a voice in my head, fighting against me. Claire once said not to worry about arguing with voices in your head—to only worry when you started losing.

 _I don't want to do this anymore._

"Okay, okay, joke's over!" I said to the forest, trying to suppress some of the crazed laughter escaping my mouth. My whole body shook with the effort. "This is Punk'd, right? Is this the part where Ashton Kutcher and the camera crew pop up and tell me I'm a dumbass?"

As if to mock me, the chirping of crickets answered.

"What? _Nothing_?" I called, voice growing high and shrill, gesturing with open arms for some kind of sign, and then I realized something. I shook now for a different reason.

A moment ago... did I just… did I just call myself Rin?

Who's Rin?

The distorted image of what I thought to be me flickered madly against the river's current.

Is this Rin?

Am I supposed to be Rin?

 _Yes, finally._

The intense pressure and seething pain behind my eyebrows lifted a little, and for whatever reason this revelation seemed to both soothe and enrage me.

"I—I'm Rin?" I said aloud, stunned. It sounded so _wrong_ (but I'm lying to myself).

 _It's right._

"No, I'm Jenn," I said, more firm, but still pretty shaky. "I'm not… _Rin_." _Rin, Nohara Rin is_ _ **my**_ _name_ , I suddenly realized with horrifying clarity. That was worse than the psycho in my head. "I'm _Jenn_ ," I grit out through clenched teeth, louder.

 **RIN,** he spat out the name like it was the most revolting thing he'd ever said.

I snapped.

"I. AM NOT. RIN!" I screamed, slamming a glowing red fist into the ground. It shattered under the force of the blow, and I recoiled. What else could I do but stare at it? Stare at it the same way I'd stared at myself? None of this was _me_.

Jenn wasn't thirteen years old and capable of wild feats, like healing with a touch and enhancing her muscles to the point where it appeared she was almost flying. Jenn didn't wake up in pools of blood surrounded by trees out of a Giger-ific nightmare, or with memories that weren't hers. Jenn didn't hear voices in her head. Jenn couldn't BREAK solid rock with her BARE FUCKING HANDS!

I did a double-take before confusedly tacking on _and I shouldn't glow red?_ Oh no, why was I glowing red?

A sudden, deep pain in my gut interrupted my pity party (likely the first of many to come). I coughed and gagged, lurching forward. I grasped at my stomach, trying to will away the burning roiling under the skin there. A small scream forced itself past my lips as I rolled on the ground in agony, trying to string enough coherent thoughts together to figure out what was happening to me now.

 **I _warned_ you,** he roared with a wrathful, inhuman vehemence.

"No more," I gasped, scratching at my belly, ears ringing, _sanity_ quaking, "I don't… want… to die… AGAIN!" I shot upwards in a howl, nails ripping through the stiff fabric of my shirt. I felt hot liquid stain my fingertips and smear across my palms and belly. It only made the burn that much more intense across my abdomen. Had I scratched so hard that I'd made myself bleed?

 **I _NEVER_ WANTED TO BE SEALED! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I _WON'T_ LET YOU KILL ME!**

I looked down to see black and red. My hands dripped black fluid, its smell reminding me distantly of ink. The red. Oh god, the red…! It boiled up from my belly, bubbling and foul. Could this horrible thing possibly be chakra? It crept along my body, up my chest, and oozed in small amounts from my arms and left hand. My right was completely encased in it. I felt it burst from my back in a spectacular wave of fiery pain. Errant tears leaked from the corners of my eyes as I struggled to tamp down whatever this was—

In another striking moment of clarity, through my skin burning and peeling away under the full moon, I understood what was happening. I remembered the Pein Invasion Arc. I remembered Naruto and his jinchūriki forms. A spiky phantom tail, blazing red and translucent, swept out from under me, and I began to scream without restraint.

I was going to die within the first hour of my new life.

* * *

 **2016 commentary:** Interestingly enough, it was Silver Queen who advised me back in the day to decide between a humour/parody fic or a more serious one, that the struggles Jenrin (term originally coined by Petrichor in May) goes through can be quite severe and as such she wouldn't realistically be capable of a lot of humour in some situations. As you can see, I prefer writing a more realistic SI to a parody, though please don't forget the notes at the top of the first chapter stating that I aim for humour when possible. I enjoy a good balance of everything.

To whatever questions this chapter gives you—especially everything concerning Isobu; he has a very good reason for not wanting to "die"—know they will all be answered in upcoming chapters. I'm a stickler for details and rarely let things fall through the cracks. Also, you got the first true taste of AU Zetsu.

I'd like to thank everyone for their kind words and support so far! I'm surprised so many remember this and want it continued. It's really given me my spirit back and I've picked up some help from a few people, so this WILL be continuing.

 **HEADS UP, I am going in for surgery on October 12th. Please be understanding if I don't update immediately on the 14th/15th or possibly miss a week or two as I will still be recovering. Your patience is appreciated. I will try to get chapter three uploaded as soon as I'm able.**

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 **Fic recommendations:** _Ikanaide - Don't go_ by Iscanox, _For Thine is the Kingdom_ by Enbi, and _Cat's Cradle_ by jiemae


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